


TAZ Trauma

by dandelionquartz



Category: The Adventure Zone (Podcast)
Genre: Anxiety, Anxiety Attacks, Canon Compliant, Claustrophobia, Isolation, Night Terrors, Nightmares, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Trauma, Whump, for the most part anyways but eh, lucretia is so traumatized i'm sorry, nonverbal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-10
Updated: 2020-01-10
Packaged: 2021-02-27 07:41:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,636
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22193470
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dandelionquartz/pseuds/dandelionquartz
Summary: There was no way that they could have gotten through their entire adventure without having some trauma. And as one knows, everyone handles trauma differently.
Relationships: Barry Bluejeans/Lup, Kravitz/Taako (The Adventure Zone), Merle Highchurch/The Hunger | John
Comments: 4
Kudos: 63





	TAZ Trauma

**Author's Note:**

> This was a WIP, but I decided that I'm probably never going to finish it RIP, so here it is! Heed the tags, as there may be a trigger for you in this work! This is me working through my own emotions and trauma through fictional characters,,, projecting :)

There was no way that they could have gotten through everything without coming away with a few scars and scrapes. Sure, many of them were phsyical, but there are always some that aren't. Each one of the seven birds came away with feathers missing and jerky flying.

Magnus was plagued with nightmares. They were always the same: his friends on one end and he on the other. They were calling his name, pleading, screaming, crying, and he could do nothing for them, do nothing to save them. Johann's face is often at the front, and he doesn't even say anything. Just looks. Magnus wakes up gasping and shaking every other night.

On those nights, he'd carve. Carve away his fears, the dream flaking away from his consciousness with the wood flaking away from the sculpture. Most of them were ducks, boats (they often looked suspiciously similar to the Starblaster), or even small figurines of his friends that he'd give to them in the morning, or save for a birthday. Every once in a while, though, even the carving wouldn't let him escape the terrors. He'd be so focused on scraping the wood away with his knife that he'd forget to look at what he was carving. He'd come out of the reverie and stare at the wood in his hands, and begin to shake again. His mannequin body, the planets and their inhabitants that he couldn't save, every corpse of everyone that they'd killed, or the ones that he couldn't save. The worst were the ones where he carved a man, hauntingly familiar, but he never knew who he was. He was left with a bad taste in his mouth, and a feeling that this man was important in ways he shouldn't have ever forgotten. Like he had taken something away from him, something key to his grief.

He burned the sculptures as soon as he was able to.

Taako, meanwhile, carries a strange heavy empty hole beside his heart. Lup is back, yes, but he can never shake the feeling that something is missing still, that she's not really all there. Sometimes in the middle of the night, he'll wake up with a gasp and just shiver in the darkness until Kravitz pulls him closer and strokes his hair. He falls asleep, but there's an anxious hum as he does so.

And the picture, a lovely portrait of Lup, is always carried inside a locket that he wears close to his heart. On the back, in his airy scrawl, he's written "This is Lup. This is your twin sister, your other half. Do not forget again." He carries it with him everywhere, terrified it'll happen again somehow, even if the two voidfish have left. He can't risk it again, he can't lose her again. He doesn't think he'd be able to survive it.

Merle seemed to be doing the best out of the seven of them. He spent a lot more time with his kids, and they were really happy to have a proper dad again. He showed them his favourite music (let's be honest, it's all Kenny Chesney and Pan gospel); he taught them about Pan and Istus, and then muttered that they should never get involved with Pan, it's not really worth the hassle; he showed them how to make crafts out of beachside finds, and they exchanged their creations gleefully; and most importantly, he taught them to find joy in everything they could. Merle kept all of Mavis and Mookie's creations and crafts and drawings, hanging them around his room and creating entire pseudo-shrines for their art.

During the night, though, sometimes he can't sleep. Those are the difficult times. A strange tall, older man in a suit visits him in his dreams and thoughts. John wouldn't leave him alone. Or the imagination version of John, anyways. Merle was pretty sure that the real John had been eliminated... killed. Good as dead. Sometimes Merle found himself playing chess games in his head, often during the space in between consciousness and sleep. He couldn't get rid of it, no matter what he did. Not entirely. So he and the not-real-John spent nights together, and Merle chased sleep during the visits. Eventually he would fall asleep and his dreams were full of static and chess pieces and eyes.

Lucretia was regrettably one of the most traumatized out of them all. She had a low, ominous buzzing in the back of her mind most days, a constant reminder of the fine line she walked between falling apart and keeping herself presentable. Guilt, the swampiest and heaviest kind, clawed at her often, whenever she didn't have something to distract her mind. She did her best to keep herself occupied, but often found herself staring at the portrait of the seven of them on that beach, all smiling and carefree. She missed that feeling. Guilt and panic constantly threatened to overtake her.

She had made a mistake, she was sure that was true now, and she wouldn't - nay, couldn't - forgive herself. Ever. She had taken years away from all of her friends, and she deserved this pain for that.

When the anxiety won the battle and she fell to the ground, gasping and sobbing, she always made sure she was alone. For days on end. Lucretia made sure no one ever saw her like this, made sure that no one was around during these times. Some would say that she was isolating herself, that this was unhealthy, but she knew that those people didn't understand. They didn't understand the appearances she felt necessary to keep up, and the pain she had caused her friends.

In moments of isolation, that loneliness crashed down upon her. She practically drowned in it, flailing for a grasp at sanity and hope, but it was so hard, so exhausting. She always ended up giving in. Twelve years, all alone, with Lup missing, Barry missing and possibly dead, and no one remembered their adventures. No one remembered her. She had only had Davenport around for such a long time, and he had been a hollow shell of himself. She'd felt sick everytime she saw his empty eyes, and was reminded of her choice, her decision and how she had taken everything away from stoic and brave Captain Davenport. What she had taken away from all of them. Taako, Merle, and Magnus showed up eventually, yes, but that was almost worse than not having them around. They had been so familiar, so similar to their past selves, but they'd been missing so much. They'd never recognized her, not really. The loneliness was lethal, but she never let it kill her. She always managed to eventually pull herself back together, straighten her back, and go back to her friends. Her family. She knew they'd never forgive her. She kept her chin held high nonetheless. She had to be strong for them.

Speaking of Davenport, he was doing alright for the most part... that is, until someone called for him. It's the tone, the commanding, the askance, the request in the voice. It triggered something deep inside him, something he tried to bury away. On especially difficult days, he'd go entirely nonverbal, and his eyes went dull as he disappeared into himself. He'd lock himself in his room, and sit in the corner on the floor, shaking slightly.

Davenport. Davenport. Davenport. That damned name of his. Echoing, echoing, the only word in his mind, all that's left of him. Davenport. Davenport.

No. Captain. Cap'nport. Captain Davenport, the captain of the Starblaster and its crew, gods damn it all! He's a brave leader and an incredible pilot, keeping his crew together and getting them all home safe and sound, no matter what! Captain Davenport!

...Davenport. What a cruel and unusual curse it is to have your own name be twisted into something that makes you want to retch when you hear it. Davenport. Davenport.

Lup hated being in enclosed spaces now. She couldn't handle being in a room with the door closed, especially if no windows were around. Twelve years trapped in a small room with no doors, no windows, no way out will do that to you. She hated crowded spaces, hated closets and washrooms, and especially hated umbrellas. She hated that she was afraid. What had happened to the brave, strong, undefeated Lup of before?

That Lup had crumbled to dust in that small room of curtains.

At night, when she and Barry headed to bed, she wouldn't sleep if the door was closed. The door had to be wide open before she'd let herself ease into slumber. Their bedroom window stayed open, too, so that when she woke up, she'd see a way out immediately. No more sleep masks, and no more sleep ins. The sun was too bright too early, but she refused to sleep any other way. Barry didn't mind. He was just so happy that Lup was back in his arms, safe and alive.

In fact, Barry never really let Lup out of his arms. He became almost unbearably clingy, never wanting to let her out of his sight, so worried that she'd disappear again. He'd make sure his plans always lined up with hers, cancelling whatever he needed to so that he could go everywhere with her.

This was never going to work, and Lup finally put an end to it one day. She just blew up all of a sudden. They couldn't keep doing this! They couldn't keep going on like this, not for very long! Lup proposed that they set up a special Stone of Farspeech, just for the two of them. It wasn't the same as being together physically, but Barry was just relieved to know that he could check in with her whenever he needed to.


End file.
